Breaking the Mask
by FaithHopeLove
Summary: Post-ep for 'Hooked'. Who you really are will eventually dominate...


AN: Okay. I'll forewarn here. This is another piece of fiction written by me that deals with Elliot Stabler, and will minorly include his faith in Catholicism.

I might add more chapters, tell me via the review if you're interested. Hope to hear from you!

Disclaimer: The episode isn't mine, the characters aren't mine, nothing to do with SVU is mine. They belong to Dick Wolf. Anyone else share my pain?

Spoilers: A mention from 'Hysteria'…protect your goal, everyone!

* * *

There are two people within me who fight a constant battle.

They are the two people who make up who I am; one of which I tend to act to perfection on a daily basis; the other one being who I am.

There's Detective Stabler, the man I force myself to be whenever I deal with depravity.

And then there's Elliot Stabler, the guy I really am.

Except for the rare moment where I let those two people become one.

Detective Stabler _does_ care about the people he works with; he's a great guy. He has a great capacity for rage and compassion.

But he's not completely who I am.

He's who I force myself to be on the job, because it's the only way I can return to being Elliot Stabler when I'm off the job.

Elliot Stabler, the guy I really am, is a father of four children. And as a detective who works with children who have been abused, degraded or brutalized on an almost daily basis, I can't let myself be Elliot Stabler. Because Elliot Stabler takes the hits more than Detective Stabler.

Still, I'm not perfect. And if there's two people that dominate you, you can't help but slip up and let them become one person from time to time.

So on one of those harder days, when all I can think about is my children, Elliot Stabler breaks through the mask of Detective Stabler.

It gets that way whenever I see a father who lost a daughter he loved; or whenever I see a child who's father or mother _didn't_ love them. Both are heartbreaking, and when you don't eventually reach out in compassion to them, break through the person you force yourself to be on the job, well…you can be sure that you've lost your humanity.

And then there's the times when all I can see are my children when I look into the face of the victim. Or the times when I think of the what-ifs. What if it was me that was losing a daughter? What if it was my daughter lying on the examining table?

What if Kathleen had let her guard down, stopped 'protecting the goal' and had been infected with her ex-boyfriend's HIV?

That was what I was thinking when I talked to Lisa's father. That was all I _could_ think. _This could have been me…_

I'll remember the fear in my daughter's eyes when she thought I was there to tell her that her mother and I were going to get a divorce until the day I die. I'll remember my pride and relief at her responsible attitude until the day I die, as well.

You see, I raised my children to be good Catholics. But just because you raise someone to be good, that doesn't mean they will be good. Kathy and I were raised Catholic. We had sex outside of marriage. We slipped up.

It only takes a moment to slip up. But when Kathleen was tempted with that moment, I'm choosing to believe that she remembered the talk we had years ago…about protecting the goal. And hopefully she'd remembered a bit of Sex Ed and Catechism classes, too…

When I went to talk to Angela…I had every intention of being Detective Stabler. Of being hard. Of seeing the person who had shot and killed a man, instead of a child who was hurting.

But in the end, Elliot won out. My conscience gets me every time. Every damn time. Because deep down, you can't deny who it is you really are. You can only force it back. All I really could see was a little girl who had been taken advantage of; a child who had been neglected by her parents. It's true, what they say. When children- or teenagers- don't get the attention and affection they need at home, they'll look for it somewhere else. I'm pretty sure that Angela was crying for attention. God knows she probably didn't get any at home.

Detective Stabler would have looked past her tears, slapped on the handcuffs, and thought nothing of it. He doesn't see the victim.

But I do.

The pain in Angela's eyes touched me. She may have done something wrong; but I knew she was hurting beyond belief.

I guess I was conflicted; I wasn't sure at first whether to be empathetic, or to arrest her.

As a Detective, I had no intention of showing any emotion whatsoever.

But as a father, as Elliot, as a man who still feels, I did just that.

The scene replays in my mind as I drive home, to what is now an empty house where I used to have a home…

"_For once, don't lie to me."_

I'd said that to her the same way I would have said it to my children. Detective Stabler has more of a temper than I do, but when, as a father, I need to take on an angry demeanor, I do. I admit that I'm a disciplinarian. I wouldn't say I rule over my children; but I have authority; when they've done wrong and they know it they have healthy fear of me. But, unlike the dirtbags I send to jail everyday, my children have never lived in complete fear of me. I'm a very strict father. But my children are better people because of that.

I think when I said that to her, for just that second, I was hoping that I could use paternal authority to make her a better person.

"_I asked him to give me the tape," Angela cried, "And he said he couldn't because he'd go to jail. A-And all I kept thinking was that somebody would see it. And my life would be ruined."_

I'd been conflicted between Elliot and Detective Stabler in that moment; one second I felt compassion, the next, disgust.

_"I pointed the gun at him…a-and it went off…"_

My disgust at her for killing someone, for selling herself for money, was starting to win over. The coldness won over my eyes; of that I'm sure.

I feel it every time.

Then she'd fallen against me, crying.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I just wanted my life back!"_

I'd been shocked at first. See, _I_ may be Elliot, but I have the act of Detective Stabler down to perfection. And Detective Stabler only saw what she was, not what had made her that way. He saw a girl who was young, but nevertheless, had done something terribly wrong. No big deal. It's what he sees every day.

But I saw a child whose parents had hurt her far beyond anythingI could imagine. She'd deserved attention, affection, and love, just as everyone on this planet does. The need to protect her; to help her get through her pain, flooded me up to the point that she almost became one of my daughters as I gave in to who I am.

"Shhh…Shhh…" 

Elliot Stabler overruled Detective Stabler as I stroked her hair, pulled her close, gently rocked her in the middle of the school hallway. I prayed to God that maybe, if only for that instant, I could give her some of the affection, the shoulder to cry on she had deserved, but never got.

But if I want to keep my job so I can support and, in ways I will never let them know, protect my children, I can only let myself be Elliot Stabler for so long.

Whenever I'm in the 16th precinct, or doing the business assigned to me by my Captain, Detective Stabler eventually has to win over who I am.

Eventually.

But not right now.

Not always.


End file.
